


Lifedrinker

by BorosPaladin



Series: Nova Alabastra [10]
Category: Kingdoms of Amalur
Genre: Fire, Gen, like seriously a guy dies by fire, multiple guys actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:17:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3384818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BorosPaladin/pseuds/BorosPaladin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An adventure, from the perspective of - well, they'd usually be the antagonists. Fixing things that were once broken is fun, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifedrinker

“Yes, I know it’s broken. Can you fix it?”

“I’m a necromancer, not a blacksmith. I can’t just fix the weapon.”

“But it was held together by reanimated flesh!”

“Yes, but the blade underneath was quite thoroughly destroyed; I didn’t even know it was possible to break a blade into that many pieces. Making a new one would be easier than trying to fix this piece of junk, though the enchantments would be hard to replicate.”

They paused.

“What about Belne?”

“What _about_ Belne?”

“He’s supposed to be the best blacksmith in the Faelands. With the enchantments still bound to the shattered steel, couldn’t he – ”

The other one laughed. “Yes, I’m sure he could. If only you might be able to convince a Fae that a necromantic sword were natural enough for him to fix, oh yes.”

“But surely there is a way!”

“Yes, there is. But you’re going to fetch a new blade, and then we’re going to sneak inside the Scholia Arcana.”

*             *             *

“I told you not to bother with anything special!”

“Why not? We’re remaking the greatest sword ever known. It deserves something special.”

“Yes, but now someone has an idea of what we’re doing since you chose a design nearly identical to the original!”

“Oh, don’t worry so much. The smith didn’t recognize it for what it was, and even if she had I don’t think she would have reported it.”

“You went to the Pryderi, didn’t you?”

“Now, I didn’t say – ”

“You went to Pride of the Pryderi, didn’t you? And you’re only saying ‘she’ because the wife sells the weapons, though the actual smith is male.”

“…yes.”

“You’re an idiot. The city watch probably already knows.”

“Well the watch doesn’t go inside the Scholia. We’ll be safe once we’re inside.”

“Right, because no one will notice a pair of mages carrying a greatsword around the grounds.”

“Stranger things happen there all the time, especially since they started teaching about Fae magic. No one will notice and no one could care.”

“And you don’t think they’ll say anything about us not being allowed back?”

“The scandal was covered up and most of the students have changed. There’s a new Archsage, too. We’ll be fine as long as you can get us in like you promised.”

“In the door is easy. In the Archsage’s Quarters, though? No one gets to see that ward unless they’re unwelcome, and the unwelcome don’t get that far. There’s no planning ahead for that.”

“So how are you going to get us in?”

“Every ward can be broken. It’s just a question of how, and for most wards the ‘how’ is easy. There isn’t a ward in the world I won’t be ready for. Now come on, let’s go.”

*             *             *

“I don’t see a ward.”

“Of course not. Most of them are invisible on purpose.”

“No, I mean, I’ve gotten better at ‘seeing’ magic, and I don’t ‘see’ any magic here.”

“That can’t be right. Just because I haven’t found the ward yet doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

The robed figure began walking forwards.

“Wait, no, don’t – !”

But they just kept going. After a few paces, they stopped and turned around. “See? No ward.”

“Strange. The Archsage’s quarters should be the most heavily guarded place here. You’d think there’d be a dozen wards.”

“Maybe you were right, and they know we’re coming. They probably lower the ward for visitors and it’s a trap.”

“What, you’re going to run now?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Good. Then don’t say it again and stay aware. There might be wards – or a trap – deeper in.”

*             *             *

“Whose idea was this, anyway?”

“Shut up and keep piecing. We need to get these runes right in order to copy them.”

“Look, I’m not going to stop working, I just like to know who I’m working for.”

“You’re working for me, dumbass. I’m paying you.”

“Yeah, but who’s paying you? This is way bigger than your typical pet projects.”

“Yes, of course someone’s paying me. Do you have any idea how many people would trade me their eyes just to touch this sword?”

“Eyes? Why eyes?”

“Zombies need eyes, idiot, and it’s hard to keep a good pair in the head when their eyelids have rotted off. You’d better be almost done down there, all this yapping going on.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. You brought the paper, right?”

“Of course I did. It’s in the satchel; even you can’t miss it.”

The figure reached over to the satchel. “…what?”

“What did you do this time?”

“There’s no paper here. Just ashes.”

“You burned it?”

“No, I burned it,” said another voice as an older man in elegant robes floated into the room, already readying his spells for combat. “I wanted to make sure you couldn’t succeed in what you were trying, whatever it was. I’m surprised you didn’t notice the smoke as you walked the grounds.”

“Why are you stopping us? We are recreating a masterpiece! A work of art!”

“No, you’re performing necromancy. Aside from the fact that you would probably get the entire spell wrong and conjure a horrid amalgamation of flesh which you would be mixing yourselves into, you’re attempting to recreate one of the most horrific abominations to have ever existed. Not to mention that one of you would probably have had to sacrifice the other to complete the blade, so a betrayal was inevitable – “

“Wait, what? You were going to kill me for a few eyes?!”

“You are such a moron. I can’t believe you didn’t see it coming.”

A small whirlwind whipped through the pair, scattering the blade’s pieces.

“As I was saying, a betrayal was inevitable, but I was hoping that you two would get further before noticing something was amiss. Still, at least you won’t be candidates for some necromancer’s experiments.”

“Whoa whoa whoa wait. What makes the summoning of constructs like Faer Gorta fine but raising corpses so wrong, huh?”

“The living serve the living, and the dead pass from us. There is no other reality.” With this, the mage brought a flaming rock down from the chamber’s ceiling like a meteor. The explosion when it hit the floor sent one charred corpse flying across the room and the other dropping down the chasm surrounding the chamber’s floor.

*             *             *

Laughter erupted around the table.

“And they really thought that this would work? Like they seriously thought you had no idea that they were back or anything?”

“Oh, yes, they thought it would work!” Jubal grinned. “They genuinely had no idea I knew they were there!” More laughter, and a few drinks finished.

“So, Jubal. Did you ever catch the guy? I mean, who hired idiots like them to try to pull that kind of a stunt off?”

Jubal’s hands glowed red and his smile faded. “Actually, I did. It took some doing, but I traced them back through a number of messengers and secret hand-offs until I found the culprit.”

Jubal grabbed the man next to him by the neck, raising him off the bench as Jubal stood.  Where Jubal was holding, the man’s neck began to burn.

“I also got permission from the Rathir City Watch to execute the responsible party,” the Archsage growled. The man was suddenly engulfed in flames, and his screams could barely be heard beyond the meeting room’s walls.


End file.
